


you're the universe I'm helpless in

by coffeepoweredlesbian



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Juno Steel is in Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Overworking, Peter Nureyev Needs a Hug, Post-Episode: s03e05-06 Juno Steel and the Tools of Rust, Sleep Deprivation, Trans Peter Nureyev, takes place between tools of rust and shadows on the ship, that's it that's the fic, they're gay they're in love and juno does not giggle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeepoweredlesbian/pseuds/coffeepoweredlesbian
Summary: Peter Nureyev did not get as far as he did by slacking off. After not living up to his full potential on both their previous heists, he resolves to make sure the theft of The Blade goes off without a hitch.And if that involves working himself into the ground, so be it.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 10
Kudos: 118





	you're the universe I'm helpless in

Peter Nureyev tested himself as he walked the halls of the Carte Blanche.

With every rhythmic footfall, he would ask a question, and in the echoing space between one step and the next, he would pluck the answer from his mind. They would be docking on Hela soon, and after the disorganized disaster that had been their last major heist, he desperately needed to redeem himself. Nothing could distract him from his work, memorizing all blueprints of the warehouse, schedules, notes on The Blade and how it needed to be stored. Not even Juno’s soft lips and softer words, skin still a bit damp from the shower as he tried to pull Peter away from his desk, but to no avail. 

Juno was most likely asleep now. Peter would make it up to him later, once he was able to reinstate his role as an invaluable member of the crew. So he allowed himself a single kiss and filed the rest away for the future. That had been hours ago, most likely. He hadn’t kept track of time, hunched over scattered piles of paper for so long that his back began to ache. It was easy enough to ignore at first, but then the cramps set in and Peter decided he deserved a break. Hence, the pacing and testing. 

_ One: when do shifts change?  _ Every fourth hour, with a switch between on-duty indoor and outdoor guards halfway through. Take another step and—

_ Two: how many guards per shift?  _ Twenty guards total, half within the warehouse and half outside, traveling in four groups of five. Keep walking and—

_ Three: how many exits?  _ One main exit, a large garage door in the front. Four, no, three side doors, one for each wall and secured with deadly machinery. The mistake in his answer had caused Peter to stumble. He began walking again, reciting questions and answering them. As surely as the movement of his legs across the ship’s winding halls. One foot in front of the other and—

First rule of thieving: an unprepared thief is a dead one. First rule of thieving: never be taken by surprise. First rule of thieving: always have escape routes for your backup plans and backup plans for your escape routes. 

Peter may have purposefully forgotten who gave him that advice, but he would not forget the lessons learned. He drilled himself on every aspect of the mission and then some, restarted every question from scratch whenever he made a mistake, stopping and cursing his weakening mind whenever he was thrown off beat. So engrossed was he in his studying that he barely noticed that the path he was walking opened up into one of the more spacious rooms on the ship. 

A large window made up almost the entire wall, an iridescent blackness beyond it. Flickering lights from distant stars looked like sequins in a pool of shining ink. Asteroids ground each other to dust in their orbital belts, and the resulting clouds created swirling, nebulous shapes. 

Peter had always loved the view from space. The first time he had seen it, he was only seventeen, and the endless expanse of the galaxy had tasted like freedom on his tongue. But the view he was most interested in now was perched on a windowsill ledge.

Juno stared out the window, both legs pressed up against his chest as he leaned against the wall. It was difficult to make out anything save for a vague silhouette, and Peter found himself drawing closer, all questions forgotten as he tried to strain his eyes past the semidarkness. When he was almost to Juno, a strange tightness seized his chest, his words sounding off even to his own ears.

“...Juno?”

Juno let out a sound suspiciously close to a shrill scream as he flailed. “ _Nu_ —god _damnit_ , Ransom, you scared the shit out of me.” He settled down, hand creeping away from his waistband, the spot where his blaster would’ve been. “I’m gonna put bells on you, that’s what I’m gonna do. Sneaky bastard,” he muttered, mostly to himself, but punctuated each sentence with a glare.

“My apologies, love. I hope I didn’t startle you too much.” 

Juno cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, don’t you have work to be doing? Heist stuff?” 

Peter was unable to stop himself from smiling. “You sound awfully bitter about that, my dearest detective.”

“ _No.”_ Juno scowled at Peter, sharp even through the dim light. “Although you did boot me out of your room to stare at files.”

“If it helps you feel better, my back is paying the price.”

“I’d feel better with my... _whatever_ with me.”

Peter stepped forward, decidedly not thinking about all the various meanings of _whatever._ “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

The only response to that was an unintelligible grunt.

“Is there room in that window for two?” Peter rounded his vowels and shaped his voice into Rex Glass’ smooth simper. Now that he was closer, he could see that Juno’s cheeks had gone slightly red, accentuated by his smile. He wasn’t wearing the silk cap he usually slept in, which either meant he never intended to go to bed, or that he had been up for a while. 

After a moment’s pause: “C’mon, get over here.” Juno shifted around on the ledge, letting his legs drop over the side so he could lean back against the window instead. 

Peter sat down next to him, only an inch or so of space between them. Maybe less. The nanosilicate glass was borderline freezing through his clothes, but the warmth from Juno was almost enough to offset it. “Isn’t this quite the callback, detective? Once upon a time you were ready to launch yourself out a window to keep from talking to me, and now you welcome me in with open arms.”

Juno looked at him, really looked, like Peter was a case that needed solving, a crowd of people to be examined, parsed through and analyzed. It was a strange feeling, being perceived. But then Juno chuckled, a low sort of sound. “Nah, you just looked like a sad kitten standing there.”

Peter took back every remotely sappy thing he had been thinking. “A  _ kitten? _ ”

This only seemed to amuse Juno further. “Or a lost puppy.”

“ _ A lost _ —”

“Baby bird?” Juno shrugged a shoulder, his smirk only widening. Peter batted his arm. It would not have hurt in any sense of the word, but Juno still made a big fuss out of gasping and pushed Peter away. 

Peter’s hand on the ledge steadied him. “Is it so difficult to believe I simply missed you?”

Juno was still rubbing his bicep “Funny way of showing it.” He tried to pout but he was still smiling, which rather contradicted the wounded lady demeanor he was trying to go for. 

Nevertheless, it was a valiant effort and Peter was nothing if not indulgent.

“Oh, my poor injured darling,” he cooed. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

And at this Juno made a sound that was suspiciously close to a giggle, although Peter knew that if he ever tried to bring it up again it would be promptly shot down.  _ Seriously, Nureyev? You of all people should know that I don’t giggle. Quit kidding yourself and give me my blanket back.  _ It was rare that Peter looked to the future with anything but dread. Juno Steel was the exception. 

Peter continued when it became clear that Juno was waiting. “My deepest apologies, love. I was not aware of how delicate you are.” Before Juno could protest, Peter ducked his head and pressed his lips to Juno’s arm, right beneath the sleeve of his shirt. “Does this alleviate your suffering?” 

“ _ Stop, _ ” Juno whined. 

Another kiss. And then a third, because Peter honestly couldn’t resist. “Have I earned my lady’s forgiveness?”

Juno shoved at his head, that same  _ absolutely not a giggle, why would you even think that what’s wrong with you  _ raising his voice higher. “Okay, okay, I get it. I forgive you. You’re all good, Ransom.” His eyes seemed to sparkle, a hidden sort of light dancing in them. The last time Peter had seen those eyes, the fire was dimmed, not extinguished, but barely visible through the shadow. Seeing Juno like this, like he was no longer trying to hold the sky on his shoulders, was enough to make Peter fall in love all over again.

Well. There was  _ that _ word again. But Peter didn't have much time to process it because Juno was still there, incandescent Juno who was so undeniably  _ present  _ that he evaded both Peter’s endeavors to file him into the future and his attempts to leave him in the past. 

Juno tilted his head, pretending to be lost in thought. “But now that I’m thinking of it...maybe there’s one more thing. ” 

Juno really didn’t understand the subtleties of allusion and implication, did he? Because in the same breath as the last word that left his mouth, he was already closing the space between them in a single short lunge. 

Peter didn’t know how he got anything done, not his research or studying or thieving, because even the most dazzling of jewels, the most thrilling of heists, were nothing compared to this. He could steal entire planets made of solid diamond and he would trade it for a single one of these moments. Instead, he settled on stealing more kisses.

It was embarrassing, how easily Juno had fit himself into Peter’s life. Peter was the one used to being fluid, pouring himself into every crevice, rift, and imperfection, making his mark feel whole. But he would always move on before calcifying. As soon as he gave Juno his name, maybe even before that, he had solidified in the shape he was in, and now the only one that could match him perfectly was Juno himself. If Peter was a smarter man, he should be frightened. Downright terrified of this lady who had taken a master thief and robbed him of his three most prized possessions: his anonymity, his malleability, and his heart. 

Peter was quite a fool, especially where Juno Steel was concerned. 

Juno’s pulse jumped when Peter’s knuckles brushed against his neck on the way up to cup his jaw. His stubble was a bit on the longer side now, more purposeful curation than simple carelessness and exhaustion. Where his dimple would be, there was a pronounced, round scar. Peter circled his thumb over it. 

“Where did this one come from?”

Juno furrowed his eyebrows. “Oh, the scar?” He snorted. “Boring story.”

“All of your stories are interesting.”

“Ben and I tried to get matching surface piercings. Turns out Oldtown doesn’t offer much in terms of sterile surfaces.” 

Peter paused, never quite sure how to approach these sorts of details about Juno’s past. “You’re right,” he said, slowly. “That is a boring story.”

Juno kissed him again. “Told ya. I would ask about yours but,” he waved a hand aimlessly at Peter. 

“A thief must be entirely unrecognizable, Juno.”

“Yeah, and when you rob people, do you usually take your shirt o— _ oh.”  _ Juno cut himself off. “So  _ that’s _ why you got all your scars lasered. Huh.” 

“Not the only reason.” Peter shivered a bit when he relaxed against the window. 

“Cold?”

Peter shrugged. “I’ll be alright, dear.” 

Juno raised an eyebrow. “Like you’d be alright running yourself ragged over a single job? Don’t look at me like that, you know what I mean, uh-huh.” He wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “C’mere.”

The height difference made for a somewhat awkward position, with Peter half leaning into Juno’s lap and Juno trying to hold Peter without both of them toppling over. There was nowhere else he would rather be. 

“I don’t.” Peter began. “Run myself ragged, as you put it.”

“You’re a shit liar, Nureyev.” Juno whispered his name like it was a treasure, something to be worshiped instead of hidden away to collect dust. “I’ve done the same thing before, I know how it is. One more job, one more case and then you can relax. Just one more. And before you know it you haven’t slept in four days and even the damn shower’s scared of you.”

Peter wrinkled his nose. “I’m not that far gone.” 

“When was the last time you ate?”

“Darling, I—”

“Slept? More than three hours? And in a bed?” 

“Don’t fuss, it’s terribly unbecoming.”

“Fuck, Nureyev, I get that you have your own things going on, believe me I do, and I’m giving you space to figure it all out. But just.” Juno paused. His hand moved up from rubbing soothing circles into Peter’s back to run through his hair. “Take care of yourself.”

Peter sighed, letting his head fall to rest in Juno’s lap. He could easily get lost in this, the feeling of Juno’s fingers in his hair, his low voice, the hum of the ship. “The heist is soon. I don’t want to make another mistake.” 

“What mistake? This isn’t about, tell me this isn’t about the cameras.”

“The Map was child’s play compared to the security on The Blade. Zolotovna didn’t even have blasters at her auction, but this isn’t a party. If you got hurt, if anyone else got hurt because I…”

Above him, Juno made a derisive sound. “You sure this isn’t just about your pride? Because that camera was added after Buddy pulled the security info. You couldn’t have known.” Juno’s free hand reached out to hold Peter’s. 

Peter couldn’t remember a time when he felt so warm. “I know.”

“And you’re more use to the crew when you’re not one second away from passing out.” 

“Hm.” 

Juno leaned down, lips gentle against Peter’s temple. “Not drifting off on me, are you?”

Peter made a quiet sound of contentment. “Of course not,” he tried to say, but it came out muffled into the fabric of Juno’s pyjama pants.

Juno brushed a strand of hair from where it had fallen over Peter’s nose. “S’okay if you are. You deserve some rest.” 

“Juno,” Peter said, suddenly lucid. “Why were you awake?”

“Me? Oh. Had a nightmare.” 

A flash of guilt seized Peter and he tried to sit up. He should’ve asked earlier, he shouldn’t have interrupted Juno, or made this all about him. But before he could even try to apologize, Juno’s hand left his hair and pushed him back down. 

“Hey, hey. Relax. It happens sometimes. I’m feeling better now.” He returned to stroking his fingers over Peter’s scalp.

Whatever bout of excitement that had seized Peter was gone. He found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. “Are you going to sleep now, love?” He slurred, each word distant. 

Peter felt, more than heard, Juno’s laugh. And then, he felt something else: strong hands hoisting him up, a sudden weightlessness. And then the echo of footsteps against the Carte Blanche. “Yeah. I think we both are,” murmured Juno, kissing the top of Peter’s head. “I’ve got you. It’s alright.”

Peter was so wrapped up in the sound of Juno’s voice that he didn’t even remember to test himself in time with the footsteps. But that was alright. According to Juno Steel,  _ everything  _ was alright. 

And in what was maybe the only safe place in the galaxy, Peter could almost believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Venus by Sleeping At Last (yes the name is funny. sue me)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you leave a comment I will commit multiple murders for you <3 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
